


five times joe patched up george + one time he didn't

by Julziebee



Series: five plus one series [1]
Category: Band of Brothers
Genre: 5+1 Things, F/M, Fluff, M/M, everyone is very considerate, george luz would do that, i haven't written for them yet but i fell of my bike and, i thought to myself, it is a welcome change of pace, luztoye babey, super fluffy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-07
Updated: 2020-06-07
Packaged: 2021-03-04 02:14:48
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,512
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24585934
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Julziebee/pseuds/Julziebee
Summary: “Shit, I’m sorry. I’ll get you some ice.” He says before George can even get a word out. He nods a little though, so Joe finds his way to the freezer and grabs a bag of frozen peas, probably in there for this exact reason. He hands the peas to George, who chuckles when he sees them but still takes them.-George Luz is a clumsy person. It's not a bad thing, but he seems to find every way to get himself hurt. Every. Single. Way. Half the time, however, it's Joe that's distracting him.
Relationships: Bill Guarnere/Frances Peca, George Luz/Joseph Toye, Kitty Grogan/Harry Welsh
Series: five plus one series [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1854343
Comments: 2
Kudos: 30





	five times joe patched up george + one time he didn't

**Author's Note:**

> basically, i fell off my bike because i got too cocky on a turn and though, y'know what? i can make a story out of this. so i did!! i think it's positively adorable, and you should let me know what you think because i have a slightly angsty 5 + 1 webgott idea brewing

**one**

The subway was always foul at night, and that isn’t saying it’s all peaches and cream during the day, but it’s always worse at night.

Joe hates the later shifts, but living in the city is expensive. He didn’t grow up in Philly, but his extended family did, so he saw those schmucks every Christmas, every Thanksgiving, every Easter. He liked the buzz and the rush of the streets, but he also appreciated the love and safety he had with his family in their crowded apartment. Point is, he could find his way around (and appreciate) the gist of the city, and he wasn’t afraid to ask for directions if he needed them.

He got off the train, shuffling his way through the crowd, and finally above ground again. Being alone in the city was never preferable, but Joe was a rough-around-the-edges looking guy, so people tended to let him be. Joe was so,  _ so,  _ close to making it into his building, but movement and a yelp caught his senses. Being the Good Samaritan he is, Joe calls out to the figure.

“You alright?” He’s met with groans. He sighs and treks down the alley. He finds a man curled into himself, clenching his fists. He can’t even respond.

“Can you walk?” Joe asks, his concern still relatively low, but growing. The man can’t answer, so Joe doesn’t know anything, he could be dangerous, but he also doesn’t wanna leave a man that could possibly be very hurt lying outside his building. But in theory, pretending to get hurt and having someone care for you would be quite a good tactic. 

Joe bends down, and helps sit the man up.

“You okay there, chief? Can you stand?” He asks. Finally, some coherency.

“Y-” He gulps. “Yeah.” Joe helps the man up and gets a good look at him. His face is all scrunched up, so he looks to be in pain. His hands are shaking, too, one of them immediately going for the back of his head as soon as he gets on his feet. If this guy’s planning to murder him, he’s one damn good actor. Speaking of which, it’s late at night, Joe’s exhausted, and a man has just fallen in front of him, so the risk factor is quite high if he brings him inside. Then again, it would help him sleep if he knew the guy was okay. He sighs again.

“Alright, well, lucky for you, this is my building. I’ll fix you up, alright? Make sure everything’s in the right place,” He huffs. “That alright by you?”

“Yeah,” He utters again. “Thanks.” Joe nods in response and slings one of the guy’s arms around his shoulder. They hobble their way up the front steps and into the building. Joe nods at the security guy as the pair make their way to the elevator. Once they reach Joe’s floor, the man speaks again.

“Thank you,” He mutters. “Sorry.”

“Don’t be.” Is all Joe says in response. They make their way down the hall and to Joe’s apartment. Once inside, Joe leads the other man to the bathroom and sits him down on the toilet.

“I’m not a doctor or nothing, but I got a doctor friend, so I know a little bit.” Joe offers. He stands over the man and checks the back of his head, where he seemed to have the most pain. Sure enough, his hair is coated in a thick red. Joe doesn’t panic, because head wounds tend to bleed a lot, and he can fix this. He moves around the guy and goes under the sink to grab gauze and a wrap. He wraps the guy’s head up, careful not to apply too much pressure, and attempts to stop the bleeding. Once that’s taken care of, he’s not sure what to do next, so he asks.

“What else is bothering you?” The guy looks up at him.

“I uh, I scraped my elbow when I broke my fall, but you don’t need to-”

“Nah, dude. I got it.” Joe takes the other guy’s arm in his hand, and sure enough, his elbow is bleeding something fierce. He goes under the sink again and grabs a container of rubbing alcohol as well as some cotton pads.

“It’s gonna sting.” He says, then dabs at the scrape with the alcohol-soaked pad. The guy winces, but doesn’t flinch. Joe wipes away the blood and dirt, and when he’s satisfied with his work, he goes and gets the man a glass of water.

“Thank you,” The guy says when he receives it. He seems awfully shy about this whole thing, but there’s no shame in taking a spill every once in a while, Joe thinks. He’s never been the best at comforting people, but he tries his best.

“What’s your name?” He asks. “I’m Joe.”

“George,” The man, George, replies. Joe nods in acknowledgement. 

“You want a coffee, George? I know it’s late, but it wouldn’t be any trouble.” He offers. The man is hunched over himself, still, and has begun fiddling with the fabric of his shirt.

“No, you’ve already done more than any other stranger would’ve. But, ah, on that note, if you don’t mind, I kind of want to...leave?” He pauses, then looks up at Joe. “I mean that in the nicest, most thankful way possible. I hope you know I don’t normally slip and end up in kind strangers’ apartments.” He offers. Joe shrugs. 

“Wouldn’t be the first time.” George shoots him a look. “Kidding.” 

“Alright, well,” George stands up, and is just a bit taller than Joe himself. “I’m gonna get going. Thank you so much for the help, my roommates are never gonna let me forget this.” Joe walks him to the door.

“You don’t live too far from here, do you?” Joe asks. Being in the city alone at night spooks Joe enough, he can’t imagine what it’s like for this twig of a guy to be walking by himself at night, especially now since he’s injured. George smiles.

“No, just a couple blocks.” He replies. He steps out, and with another ‘thank you’, he’s gone.

If he sees Joe watch him from the window as he exits the building, he doesn’t let on. 

**two**

Joe doesn’t go to many parties. They’re not exactly his scene. He loves hanging out with his friends and drinking, he really does, but just that. Whenever he protests, he gets the usual excuses of, ‘you meet new people at parties’ or, ‘you need to de-stress’, yadda yadda, whatever, his friends just want cheap beer and warm bodies, and he’s not one to disagree with that. So, occasionally, he goes to parties.

This one is at a frat house--which, by the way, who thought frat houses were a good plan? Put a bunch of young, horny, stupid boys in a house together for a few years? Joe thinks it’s a terrible idea, exactly why he isn’t in one. He understands the part about money, and he gets the bond(?) that those frat guys share, but...not for him. Too loud. Anyways, it’s at a frat house. By the time he gets there, music is already exploding from inside and people are congregating on the front porch, some in the yard. A couple of his friends, Harry Welsh and Lewis Nixon, are part of the frat house, so he heads right inside. He spots Harry immediately, so he goes over to say hi.

“Harry, hey-” He calls over the--already? The sea of bodies. Harry spots him and grins. He slinks his way around the crowd and claps Joe on the shoulder.

“Joe Toye, how are you?” He asks, voice even rougher than usual from alcohol. Joe shrugs.

“We’ve all been better, y’know,” Harry nods in agreement. They’ve always gotten along, having similar outlooks and opinions on things. While it’s fun to find someone different than you, it’s also good to have people that understand you and where you’re coming from, Harry’s the second kind of person. Impossibly, the party swells, but Joe and Harry stick together. Bill and Babe have arrived, and the only way Joe knows that is ‘cause he can hear Guarnere’s laugh in any crowd, and if he’s there Babe is too. Joe and Harry have easy back and forth conversation, and Kitty joins them at some point. 

Harry and Kitty were high school sweethearts, but once you saw them together, you got it. Joe’s never seen two people work together like those two. It’s almost like they can see through each other’s eyes sometimes, which is both terrifying and really really cool. Joe would love to be able to trust someone like that, but he’s not cuddly and bubbly like either of them, so he’s not sure if he  _ could _ trust someone the way they’ve got each other's backs.

Eventually, the conversation develops into just the two of them, but they don’t do it on purpose. Nonetheless, Joe taps Harry on the shoulder and tells him he’s gonna go get them a couple beers. 

The frat house isn’t as unkempt as the stereotypical frat house would be, but that’s because Dick Winters spends a good amount of time there. That man is organized like no other, Joe thinks to himself as he shuffles towards the kitchen, and that he'd go insane if he was in Dick’s position.

Eventually, he finds his way there, and grabs three beers from the fridge. As he’s turning to leave, a certain mop of brown hair catches his eye. He turns back and sees the guy from a couple weeks ago that fell in front of his building. Shit, what’s his name?

“George!” He calls out. Apparently, he shouldn’t have, cause George whips his head around so hard he smacks it into the opening cabinet door next to him. Joe winces, and so does the dude who was opening the cabinet, and most of all, so does George. Joe hustles over to inspect.

“Shit, I’m sorry. I’ll get you some ice.” He says before George can even get a word out. He nods a little though, so Joe finds his way to the freezer and grabs a bag of frozen peas, probably in there for this exact reason. He hands the peas to George, who chuckles when he sees them but still takes them.

“Let’s go out back, yeah?” He offers. George nods again, and the two make their way to the backyard, beers be damned. Once outside, George sits down on the back steps and leans against the railing.

“You must be a bad omen or something, huh?” He jokes once Joe sits down next to him. Joe scoffs.

“I think you’re just a dumbass that’s gotta be more aware of his surroundings.” Joe counters. George smiles.

“Touche. Thanks for the peas.”

“It was my fault you got hurt, don’t thank me.”

“Oh, so you admit you’re a bad omen-”

“Hey, I didn’t say that!” The conversation is light and easy, even if George is holding a bag of peas to his head. Despite not knowing the guy, Joe doesn’t mind chatting with him. Usually at parties, he sticks with his friends, but George seems to be quickly shaping into a friend. They chat for nearly 45 minutes, and Joe learns his full name is George Luz, he’s an Engineering major, and he does indeed live a couple blocks away. He’s friends with a couple of the frat guys, Skip Muck and Don Malarkey, so he’s at the frat house quite often. Joe learns that his first impression of George is completely wrong, and that he’s really really loud. Joe doesn’t mind.

“Hey, maybe the next time we talk, I don’t need to be injured.” He laughs as he puts his number into Joe’s phone.

Joe only realizes he was smiling when he gets onto the bus to go home, because smiling like an idiot on public transportation was not something he was gonna start doing any time soon. 

**three**

Joe isn’t the best student in the world, but he definitely puts effort in. He comes from a big family, so going to college was always on the back burner, money was tight. That didn’t stop Joe from wanting to learn though. And yeah, sure, it wasn’t realistic, but Joe works three jobs and has been saving up for school for as long as he can remember. He works hard, he studies hard, and he sleeps like a rock. Everything in Joe’s life is dead-set and it’d take a lot to disrupt that. 

Joe’s a little late to class one day, which isn’t the worst thing in the world, but he’d already had a bad morning. This was his Euro-Lit class, which was his earliest class at 7 AM. Because he’s responsible, he wakes up early on Euro-Lit days, like super early. This morning, however, the coffee machine wasn’t working and his alarm didn’t go off, so at 6:30 Joe was panicking. He made it to class only ten minutes late, but shit was he exhausted. There’s nothing worse than being roused from sleep by panic. 

Because he’s tired, he doesn’t listen to a word his professor says, he merely copies what’s on the board and hopes he can figure it out later in the day when he can actually keep his eyes open. He has a buddy in this class, Joe Liebgott, so he knows that if he really doesn’t understand it he can ask Joe. He sits next to Joe, which was confusing for Prof. Strayer at first, but now he just calls them by their last names.

“Toye,” Liebgott says when class is nearly over. “Did you get any of that? I didn’t think of anything like that. I must be stupid or somethin’, huh?” He asks. 

“Joe, I’m gonna be straight with you, I didn’t hear a word that came outta that man’s mouth, nothin’.” Toye responds.

“Geez, groucho. Let’s get some coffee, huh? I can take you through what I picked up?” Toye nods, he doesn’t have another class until noon, and he could really,  _ really _ use a coffee after the morning he’s had. After class ends, the two find a Starbucks in the college-town that they all live in. It’s on a corner, and about a fifteen minute walk from Joe’s building, so it’s close enough that going and getting coffee with Liebgott won’t cost him any time. That’s probably the most convenient part about his campus--every place is a fifteen minute walk from the other. If you’re organized, it’s a breeze. 

Liebgott orders an Americano, and Toye gets a Macchiato with three shots of espresso. Liebgott chuckles when he hear’s Joe’s order.

“You’re really tired, huh? Something on your mind?” He asks as they sit down. Toye shrugs.

“Not exactly. Rough morning. In all my past experiences, bad mornings lead to bad days, so this is probably gonna be the highlight of my day.” He explains. Liebgott chuckles again.

“Aww, Joey, you’re such a sweetheart. Too sweet to me.” He teases, leaning forward and batting his eyelashes. “Give us a kiss, huh?”

“Day ruined; it’s literally all your fault.” Joe sighs. “Would you help me with the notes? I didn’t hear a damn word.”

“You said. Yeah, gimmie a sec, I gotta take a piss.” He says. As he walks away, Toye whispers “crude” under his breath. Not like he’s any better, their entire friend group have mouths of sailors. Joe pulls out his own notes and begins to flip through them while he waits for Lieb. He read the chapters, and everything made sense while he was reading, but it all slipped away from him during class. Thank God he didn’t get called on today, he would’ve been in deep shit. The notes don’t help clear anything up, which really bothers him because that’s what they’re meant for.

He looks up to see if Joe’s come back yet, and instead sees a certain George Luz pouring sugar--heaping amounts, by the way--into his coffee. Joe smiles for the first time that day.

“What’s my luck, huh? George Luz! What’re you-” George turns around quickly, and seems to have forgotten the lid to his coffee, which is now all over his shirt and his hand. He drops the cup, spilling the rest of it on the floor. God help that man, he was a good guy, but he sure wasn’t aware of his surroundings. Joe was up and out of his seat before George could respond.

“Bad omen, I’m telling you.” George says through clenched teeth.

“Hey, at least you didn’t hit your head this time.” Joe offers. George smiles back at him.

“Yeah, well, I don’t know if I prefer a concussion or a third-degree burn, but we’ll soon find out.” He responds. Once Joe helps him clean up, they chat for a couple minutes to catch up. George leans back against the counter at one point, and it’s winter now, so the sun goes around faster and happens to perfectly light up his face. Joe’s only talked to the guy a couple times, only seen him a couple times in person, but he thinks about him more than he should considering that. And this lighting, it’s not helping. His eyes light up like firecrackers and the sun dances playfully across his cheeks and nose. Joe can function though, he isn’t a lovesick idiot, so he carries on conversation as normal. George is in a long petticoat and his hair is longer than it was the last time they saw each other. It’s a good look on him, Joe thinks. 

“Oh, shit!” George says suddenly. “I got class in ten minutes, I gotta book it. You’re an easy guy to talk to, I didn’t notice the time...I’ll catch you later.” He waves, and then he’s gone. Joe watches him go and then returns to his table and Liebgott, who’s been sitting there for a while.

“Jeez, Toye, never thought I’d see the day. Thought you were an impenetrable fortress, but I guess we all have our vices.” He comments, carelessly flipping through his notes. “Also, how do you know Luz?”

Toye counts to ten, because for a scrawny kid Lieb sure does run his mouth kinda reckless. He doesn’t answer, but they continue to study anyway.

Later, after he’s gone to two other mind-numbing classes and a six hour shift, he thinks about Starbucks and the fact that, apparently, George lost track of time because of him. His stomach flips, and it’s the last thing he thinks about before he falls asleep.

**four**

Harry sent out a text one night a couple months later that he proposed to Kitty, and of course, she said yes. Everyone congratulated him, but decided they should really celebrate and go out for drinks. Now, this is the kind of cheap-beer-warm-bodies experience Joe rather likes. And on a special occasion, there was no way he was missing this thing.

The bar they chose was local--a small joint called The 506th. It was run by veterans and their families, and the entire place was decorated in old photographs and antiques from various wars. It was a warm bar, constant smiles and boisterous laughter. Everyone who worked there was a kind, unique person with their own stories and ways of telling them. Joe loves it there, and every time he goes he always thinks he should go more. It’s the perfect kind of place for him.

Their group is so big, they gotta push two tables together next to a booth. Everyone is all smiles and hugs and happy, and it’s a welcome change of pace from the exhausting couple months that Joe’s had. Winter meant midterms, and then after that, a shit ton of new material and also more time working. Philly’s a nice city, but it gets damn cold in Pennsylvania, and Joe doesn’t have a car.

Harry is there, of course, but so is Liebgott, Guarnere and his girl Frannie, Babe and the Doc, and Malarkey. Martin’s there, Bull is there, more or less their whole friend group. They all tell Harry to tell Kitty how much they love her and are excited for her. Guarnere leans over to Toye at one point and chuckles.

“It’s about damn time, y’know? Those two have been suckin’ face for years and years and I’m relieved they realized that they really need each other forever. They deserve that.” Joe nods at the unusually wise words from his friend. 

Joe doesn’t believe in soulmates. Harry and Kitty make a strong argument, but even then, he doesn’t think they’re real. I mean, fate, destiny? That’s not reliable, not solid. What’s solid is the old wooden chair he’s sitting on, the table that’s holding his beer, and the boots he’s wearing. Joe doesn’t like to take chances with things, he knows what works for him and he sticks to that. To him, there’s no reason to go beyond that. He’s sated with what he’s got now, and that’s enough for him.

More of their friends start trickling in. Dick and Lew come in and apologize for being late. Harry just gives them a smile and a beer. Skip and Alex Penkala, yet another frat guy, arrive. Perconte, Shifty, Skinny, and then Lipton. Tailing behind Lipton is Luz, who spots Joe immediately and sits down next to him. He throws an arm around his chair.

“Joe Toye, what’s the good word? What’cha drinking?” He reaches forward and grabs Joe’s beer off the table. He watches the way George’s lips purse around the rim of the bottle, and how his Adam’s apple moves when he swallows. Before his mind can travel anywhere darker, George starts talking again.

“Shit, you got a bad taste in beer. Remind me later and I’ll buy you a good one. But, how’ve you been? How were your midterms? You should text me more, I’m a lonely guy, Joey.” Joe smiles at him, and is completely happy in that moment in the bar. His friends are all around him, and they’re all in high spirits, drinking and laughing. Yeah, he’d take this over any party any day.

He and Luz are enveloped in one another for the better part of two hours. At one point, George goes and buys them good beers, by his standards anyway. Joe offers him money for the drink, but George refuses.

“It’s on me, on the house. I’m the house. Take a sip, tell me what you think.” So, Joe does. It’s a sweeter beer, and it’s light. It’s summer-y, and it’s a bit too early for summer drinks but Joe can understand the appeal. So, he tells George exactly that.

“See? Exactly. But it’s good any time of the year. I could’ve given you this after your most difficult final and you woulda thanked me.”

“George, I’ll thank you for every beer you buy me, and not cause I like them.” Luz dramatically throws a hand over his heart.

“Oh, I’m crushed! How could you? I spent nearly four dollars on this delicious beverage, for you to slap me in the face like that? I can’t believe it. Malarkey, can you believe this?”

“ ‘Fraid I can, Georgie.”

The way George talks is very interesting. He doesn’t articulate his words well, especially when there’s a cigarette between his lips, but Joe’s so tuned into his voice that he barely notices that anymore. When George talks, he uses his whole body. If he’s talking to you, his shoulders, his hips, and his feet are all pointed towards you. He talks with his hands a lot, he uses them for emphasis and illustration, and he can sure paint a picture. He talks fluidly, and doesn’t have much of a filter, but it fits perfectly. He can turn anything into a joke or a story, and he has so much to talk about constantly that you’d think he lives in a movie. The way he listens is also amazing. Just like talking, his entire body faces you and he gives you his full attention. He knows when you haven’t finished a thought and will patiently wait for you to string together your next sentence. He makes eye contact and nods, he leans forward and his thoughts show on his brow. He’s excellent, and Joe knows that he could spend every day talking to him and he’d still have things to say, and Joe would still listen. 

George also talks with things in his hands. This can be a problem, because he moves so much when he talks that he might spill his drink or whack someone in the head. In this particular instance at the bar, he’s got a cigarette between his pointer and middle finger. Some of the boys smoke regularly, including George. Joe smokes occasionally, but he knows the risks, and God knows how many times Gene has yelled at them for “slowly killing themselves, knowingly”. George is telling a story about his awful boss when the fourth accident happens.

“So he comes in, right? Back from getting ‘help’. Lipton doesn’t say anything ‘cause he’s an angel, but some of our buddies had just been talking about it. Dike takes one look at everyone’s faces and he makes a total 180 out the door, and-” As he’s talking about the man leaving, he twirls his hand around and the cigarette slips and starts to burn his hand. He’s so focused in the story that it takes a couple seconds to register, but then he gasps and drops the cigarette, grabbing his hand to his chest. Roe looks up immediately.

“Toye, come with me. I got a first aid kit in the car.” Joe stubs the cigarette out as soon as it hits the floor, and then ushers Luz out the door.

“We were close to breaking the curse, huh?” He jokes. Luz just nods. “Hey, you alright?” He asks. Roe is ahead of them, already shuffling through the first aid kit. He’s got a truck, so the tailgate is down and he’s put the kit there. Luz doesn’t respond again, keeps his head down, and they keep walking.

They get to the truck and Eugene has already started to inspect the burn.

“It ain’t that bad, Georgie, just give me a sec and I’ll give you some ointment and a bandage. If it blisters, don’t pop it, it’ll heal on it’s own. You got that? You gotta be more careful. I don’t think I can count the number of times I’ve had to pull this thing out for you.” He says it in a friendly way, a motherly way maybe. He gently cleans the wound and puts burn ointment on it, then wraps it up. The whole ordeal takes about five minutes. Roe puts the kit away.

“Hey, Gene, we’ll meet back up with you in a minute.” Joe calls. Roe, always two steps ahead, nods and heads inside. Joe and George sit on the tailgate of the truck.

“What’s the matter, George? I’ve seen you scraped up tons of times, but it never gets you down.” He pauses, and now finally Luz is looking at him, paying close attention to his words. “It’s something else, isn’t it?”

“No. It’s not.” He grips the edge of the tailgate, but is still turned towards Joe. “I keep fucking hurting myself and everyone keeps getting all worried and I feel…” He huffs. Joe reaches out and rubs his back, cause that’s the sort of comfort he’s used to. It takes Luz a few seconds to put together what he wants to say.

“I get guilty real easy. I don’t want people to worry, especially my friends, especially when it’s my fucking fault for not being careful, especially when we’re all supposed to be happy for Harry and not worried about Luz, who was an idiot and managed to hurt himself by telling a story.” His voice breaks at the ends, and something in the pit of Joe’s stomach flips. “I should just stop talking, huh? Save everyone a lot of trouble.” Once Joe’s sure that’s the end of George’s thoughts, he chooses his response carefully, but he’s sure of it.

“Georgie, we’re not gonna blame you for being engaged in a story. We’re not gonna blame you for being a little clumsy or awkward, and we sure as hell ain’t gonna patronize you for an accident. It ain’t your fault cause it wasn’t nobody’s fault, you hear me? We’re only worried cause we care about you and we wanna make sure you’re okay. We’re not worried ‘cause you keep hurting yourself, we’re worried ‘cause you might hurt yourself bad. Once we know you’re okay, everything is alright. I know we’re not the best of friends, and I’m not good with words like you are, but I love hearing you talk. The way you talk is baffling, at least to me. In a good way.

You’re a good person, and you shouldn’t feel guilty because we care about you. That’s a whole world of pain you don’t wanna get stuck in, believe me, I know. I’ve been there. We all have, we get it. Me and the guys, we just want you okay and with us, even if you get a little banged up here and there by accident. It’s part of you, and it’s just as much a part of you as your wit, and your voice, and your hands. And we wouldn’t trade it for nothing. Capiche?” By the end of Joe’s speech, George is looking at him like he hung the stars in the sky, but of course Joe doesn’t realize that cause he’s looking straight at the ground. He doesn’t know if what he said was the right thing to say, not until he looks up to meet George’s gaze.

“You really mean that?” George asks. Joe smiles at him, he’s been rubbing his back the whole time.

“Yeah. Yeah, I do. I could listen to you talk for hours.” He can feel the tension slip out of George’s muscles like an avalanche. Before he can register what’s happening, George has leaned over and placed a chaste kiss on his cheek. Joe can feel his cheeks on fire.

“Thank you. Let’s head back inside.” George says, and the two of them push the tailgate back up and walk inside together. There is a smile firmly planted on each of their faces for the rest of the night, but it’s business as usual. Joe could really get used to nights like these.

**five**

Joe likes to work out at the gym rather than have an exercise bike or weights at his apartment. Sure, he lives alone, but he still wouldn’t want it to clutter his living room and possibly be damaged. With a gym membership, he doesn’t have to worry about clutter or damage because the people who use the gym aren’t stupid enough to break something, unlike his friends. He goes to the gym most mornings, but not when he has his 7 AM class, because he’d have to get up at like 3:30 in the morning and there is no way in hell he’d do that. 

This morning, he doesn’t have class until one, so there’s plenty of time for him to have a nice, healthy morning. He gets up around nine thirty and is out the door in fifteen minutes. One thing he’s always been proud of is his ability to get out of bed and get his ass in gear pretty quickly. Get dressed, make a protein shake, grab the gym bag, go. It’s simple, and Joe likes simple, familiar things. 

He gets back close to noon, showers and eats lunch, and then is back out the door. He doesn’t mind not being at home today because he feels strangely refreshed. 

“Hey, that’s a good look on you.” Nixon comments as Joe slides into his seat. Joe looks at him strangely.

“You look happy.” Nix explains. He shrugs. “It’s good to see you happy.”

And the crazy thing is, Joe  _ is  _ happy. It’s not just that he had an easy morning and a solid workout, but everything has seemed to brighten up a bit. And it’s about damn time, he figures, he’s a junior in college. He should be happy by now. 

Things seem brighter, and that’s for a couple reasons. The first is that two of Joe’s classes were only one semester long with no follow up, so he has a little more free time now, and because of that, Joe’s been able to shuffle his schedule around a bit. He hasn’t had to work late in a while, which is a blessing in itself, but work environments seem to be better, too. Maybe it’s only because spring is finally showing it’s face, but even then, Joe will never complain with the flowers and a little sun on his back. Spring is a fantastic month because the entire neighborhood smells like wet earth, and the birds start to sing again, and Joe is reminded of why he loves the summer so much. He’s definitely used to cold weather, but warm weather is always welcome.

The second reason is that, because with all this free time, he’s been able to focus more on himself and the way he’s living. He’s gotten better at straightening up his apartment and doing the dishes, and he’s gotten better at thinking through things instead of latching onto the first possible outcome that pops into his head. He’s bettering himself and his surroundings, which he really should have done sooner because the change is noticeable.

The third and final reason is George Luz. Joe can confidently say he has a thing for Luz now, which is also part of the self-healing process he’s been going through. Right now they’re just friends, and Joe doesn’t know what to make of that night at the bar since George was in hysterics, but it sure felt like something. Anyways, the more he talks to Luz, the more they hang out, the more time he spends with him, Joe really begins to appreciate Luz as a person and miss him when they don’t see each other for a while. And Joe doesn’t really latch onto people, if they don’t want to talk to him they don’t have to, but he gets way too excited when George texts him back. He’s come to realize, though, that maybe that isn’t such a bad thing. Maybe the wave of glee that flies through him when he sees George’s name on the screen is exactly what was missing, and maybe the smile that sneaks it’s way onto Joe’s face when he thinks of him is entirely welcome. Maybe Joe doesn’t mind having a school-girl crush on his ridiculously adorable friend, and maybe that friend doesn’t mind either.

But, Joe’s life is too good right now. He’s already stepped enough out of his comfort zone, and he isn’t about to do something stupid when it’s taken him more than half a year to build trust and a friendship. Right now, that’s a-okay. 

Before Joe can go home, he has to visit the frat house and pick up a sweater he left the last time he was there, so he and Nixon take a bus over. Nix pays, and Joe thanks him but knows Nix’s family is filthy rich so it isn’t a big deal. Once they get to the house, he has no problem finding his sweater, it’s right where he left it...shows how much the guys clean up after parties.

“Y’know, we could have just sent Luz to give it back to you. I’m sure he’d have been happy to.” Muck suggests with an air of innocence. Toye chuckles.

“Yeah, well. Figured it was easier if I did it on my own.” Muck opens his mouth to respond, but they’re interrupted from a loud crash coming from the street. Muck and Joe make eye contact.

“Speak of the devil, and he shall appear.” Muck mutters as they race outside to inspect the damage. Before them is Luz, in the street, with a bike toppled over him. He’s laughing, so it can’t be anything too serious, but he still looks quite hurt.

“I got it,” Joe tells Muck. He walks over and helps George up.

“What’d you do?” He asks, kicking the kickstand out and propping the bike up. George chuckles nervously.

“Bee flew in my ear. I avoided getting stung, but...not falling over and scraping the shit out of my leg.” George’s leg has scrapes running diagonally across it from ankle to knee. He’s got some spotty cuts on his upper thigh, and both his elbows are scraped. Nothing’s really bleeding, but Joe knows the wounds should be cleaned to avoid infection.

“Well, thank God you had a helmet on. I don’t think you can get any dumber, but a head injury sure wouldn’t help.” He jokes with a smile. George smiles back at him. They roll the bike into the garage and then head up to the bathroom so Joe can dress George’s scrapes. They’re all lucky to be friends with Gene, who has stocked them up with medical supplies for all kinds of situations. Joe easily finds the rubbing alcohol, and grabs a few cotton pads.

“It’s gonna sting.” He says.

“Yeah, I know, we’ve been through thi-hey! Jesus, let me brace for impact.” Joe smirks to himself as he wipes away little pebbles and dirt from George’s leg injury. He then moves onto George’s elbows, which have started to bleed, so he cleans and bandages them up.

“Maybe you can be my own personal doctor,” George suggests, only half joking. “Then whenever I hurt myself, you’re behind me with a first aid kit and a disappointing sigh.” He smiles wide, and Joe desperately wants to kiss him, but knows he shouldn’t. George gasps, stealing Joe’s attention from the spotty scrapes on his thigh.

“What? Something else hurt?” Joe asks, incredulous. George just gapes at him.

“You...want to kiss me?” He asks. Joe freezes. Shit.

“I...yes and no. Yes I do, I really want to. But no, I shouldn’t, it’s not the right time and we’re barely good friends at this point and you just got hurt. But yes, I think you’re adorable and I really want to kiss you, and, like--I really do. But maybe not now. I don’t know where all this is coming from? Is the AC on? Jesus Christ. What the hell?” Joe short-circuts. “I didn’t mean to say that out loud. Any of it, but specifically the kissing part. Wait, what else did I say? Euegh, why do I sound like a seventh grader?” At this point, Joe’s sitting back on his knees with his hands fisted into his shorts. He’s staring at the tile floor of the bathroom as he talks. George just smiles at him, and it’s stupidly sweet and Joe initially recoils, but it’s George, so...it’s different.

“Hey, no pressure, man. I agree with you.” Joe looks up.

“Really?”

“Yeah. Honestly, this whole time I thought you thought I was just annoying and someone who talked too much for his own good, but...this is good.” He pauses. “You seem happier, recently.” He notes. 

“Yeah, part of that’s you.” Joe admits. He’s never seen George at such a loss for words. They both keep smiling like idiots.

“That’s...that makes me happy. Let’s...figure this out soon, yeah?” George suggests, motioning between the two of them and standing up. Joe stands with him, smiling.

“As soon as possible, George.”

He leaves the frat house with his sweater and a weight lifted off his shoulder.

**plus one (six)**

It’s Joe’s fault, this time. Well, no, it isn’t. But? You’ll see.

He’s on a walk with Bill and Frannie. They’d just gone out to eat, it was starting to become a regular thing. He was best friends with both Bill and Fran, but chronologically, Bill came first. He and Frannie were a package deal though, and Joe quickly understood why Bill fell for her so quickly, and also why they were the first pair out of the friend group to get engaged. Bill’s wedding day was one of the happiest days of Joe’s life, and if more of his friends want to get married, he’s one thousand percent behind them.

Anyways, they had a nice little dinner at a resturant, and they decided to take a walk around a little local park afterwards. Joe never felt like he was third-wheeling when he hung out with them because they weren’t so couply that it was noticeable, but they also appreciated the time they spent with each other. They’re smart people, and they know when is a more appropriate time for PDA and when is not. And even if they were couple-y, Joe still probably wouldn’t mind because they are another very strong point for soulmates. With Kitty and Harry, they love like they were handcrafted for each other inside and out. With Bill and Frannie, they were like one person who was split in two and had become whole again. Both scenarios are completely ridiculous, Joe knows this, but it’s nice to think about sometimes.

It’s late, nearing 9:30, and they’re minding their own business in the park when one of two men on the street opposite shout to them--shout to Frannie.

“Hey, doll,” The first one calls. All three heads swivel in the direction of the voice. “Why don’t you ditch those two bums and come over here, spend some time with me an’ my friend ‘ere?” He slurs. Frannie snickers to herself.

“These two bums are good friends of mine, and one of them knows me a bit more intimately.” She smirks. “You figure out who.” Both Joe and Bill are shooting deal glares at the men across the street. Bill Guarnere, born and raised in South Philly, was not someone you wanted to be picking fights with. Joe Toye, who spent every second of his free time at the gym, would also pummel you on the spot without a second though. Francis Peca, a badass who is not afraid to fight dirty, would kill you. The trio are not intimidated by the two “bums” across the street, but won’t let them get away with jackshit. 

“Oh, sweetheart,” The other one smirks, not unlike a cat. Joe hates him already. “I’m sure they wouldn’t mind if you made a couple more acquaintances...would you, boys?” He asks, inviting them into the chess game. Normally, Joe would let Bill hash this out, but seeing as he broke his leg recently and was still in crutches, that wouldn’t be the smartest move.

“Let’s just keep walking. If they follow, I’ll jump in.” Bill says under his breath. They agree without a sound, and continue walking. Immediately, the other two men call after them, and begin to follow.

“Oh, oh, honey, don’t leave! We promise you a good time. We’ll even sell you back full price.” One of them calls. Joe has been taking anger management classes, and is desperately trying to think through breathing exercises he learned. 

“Hey, take it as a compliment, wouldja? You’re lucky we’re even trying this hard, you bitch.” Calls the other. One more word, and Joe swears-

“We’ll fuck your boyfriends, too, if they behave.” That’s it. The two other men are right on their tail, and Joe turns right around and punches the first guy square in the jaw. He stumbles, and falls to the ground. The other one makes a run for Fran, but Bill smacks him behind the knees with one of the crutches. With both perps on the ground, they give them an education. Bill and Frannie kick him enough until he runs away, but the other guy and Joe are in quite a tussle. This guy seemed skinny and and easy fight, but Joe has misjudged people before. Joe’s already got a split lip, the back of his head hurt like hell, his eye’s starting to swell, and he sure there’s more to come. He uses his back to brace himself against the sidewalk, then gets his feet under the guy’s chest, and kicks him a couple feet away. Quickly, he gets up and steps on the guy’s chest.

“I see your face again,” He pauses, shifting all of his weight onto his foot, onto this dude. “I’ll make sure it’s the last time.” For emphasis, he gives the guy one last kick in the side. The three friends quickly walk away from the scene, and back onto campus.

“Frannie, do you know those pricks?” Bill asks. He now has a firm arm around her waist.

“I certainly do not. I hope they rot.” She fumes, understandably. The three of them make their way to Bill’s dorm, which he shares with Carwood Lipton. Once they get there and inside, they find Lip sitting on his bed with George sitting on the floor across from them. The dorm isn’t huge, two beds, two desks, and a little space in the middle, but the five of them aren’t uncomfortable. As soon as Luz sees Joe, his eyes widen.

“What happened?” He asks, voice laced with concern. Frannie wastes no time filling them in, and by the end of her story, Lipton looks understanding, and George looks furious--a brand new look. Joe isn’t sure he likes it.

“Okay. I’m grabbing the first aid kit, we’re gonna head to the bathroom and hope we don’t need to bother Eugene.” Luz declares, grabbing the first aid kit from it’s place hanging on the wall. Before Joe can get a word in, he is being ushered out the door. 

As soon as George closes the door behind them, he goes from angry to concerned and gives Joe a huge hug. Joe hugs him back, and they stand in the hallway for a good half a minute, appreciating each other’s presence. 

Before this night, they had talked about their relationship. They decided, after much deliberation, staying friends would be the best option. Joe was concerned because he still wasn’t the best person he could be yet, and wanted to focus on himself first, which George completely understood. George himself was freshly out of a rocky, on-and-off relationship and still needed time to heal, and didn’t want to use Joe as a rebound. So, they decided to stay friends...friends who sometimes gazed longingly at the back of each other’s heads when they thought the other wouldn’t notice, but friends nonetheless. 

Joe was fortunate enough to have his own apartment. It wasn’t anything special, in a shitty building closer to the more dangerous side of the city, but he managed it just fine. George, on the other hand, lived in the dorms, so he knew exactly where everything was.

“At least I’m not the one hurt this time, yeah?” He jokes as they enter the bathroom. Joe laughs.

“Yeah. Broke the curse.” Joe replies, but it hurts a little. His face hurts, his arms hurt, and thinks he ripped a hole in his jeans, but he can’t check because his eye is swollen and George is currently holding his face, inspecting. He grabs some paper towels and wipes away the blood coming from Joe’s nose.

“I see only a couple visible injuries, which is great because I don’t want you hurt, but also not great cause there could be some shit I’m not seeing,” George explains, reaching forward to hold Joe’s face again. Joe doesn’t stop him. 

“Yeah, well, I think I scraped up my forearm when I fell, and the back of my head is pounding like a bass drum.” Joe clarifies. George wipes the blood away from Joe’s arm and then orders him to turn his body so he can look at the back of Joe’s head. He does so, and he hears George gasp.

“Head wounds bleed a lot, I’ll be okay. If you could just...clean it up a bit I can dress it myself when I get home.” Joe offers. George makes a “mm” sound, signaling his disapproval.

“I’ll dress it. I owe you, anyways.” He justifies. Joe lets him clean it and wrap a bandage around his head. He must look like a mummy. 

He’s about to thank George and stand up when he feels a little kiss against the bandage. He’s frozen in his seat.

“What are you doing.” He asks, but it comes out as more of a statement rather than a question. He can almost feel George’s smirk.

“I’m just kissing it better. I’ve heard it works. I’ll check with the Doc later.” George then moves so he’s facing Joe, and takes one of his hands and kisses the split knuckles. He then takes the other, and does the same. 

Joe is going to have a heart attack, and Luz can’t kiss  _ that _ better.

George then lifts Joe’s arm up and kisses the scrape on his forearm. Then, he stands up again, and kisses Joe’s nose.

“Close your eyes.” He does, and he feels the slight pressure of Luz’s lip on the swollen one. Then, Joe opens his eyes again, and George is blushing.

“What?” He asks. George moves his hands from the sides of Joe’s head to the base of it. He leans forward.

“Your lip’s split.” He whispers, a secret between the two of them. He closes the gap, and it’s the most satisfying kiss Joe’s ever had. He kisses back, and stands up so George isn’t hunched over him, and settles his hands on George’s hips. They kiss like high school couples in the hallways, and Joe loves it. Once they break apart, George doesn’t let go and looks him dead in the eye.

“I know I said I didn’t want to jump into a relationship, because I thought you’d just be a rebound, but right now I have never been so sure of myself in my life. Ever.” He pauses to breathe, it was one hell of a kiss. “It’s been a while since we talked, and it’s given me a lot of time to think. My thoughts are this; fuck it. You’re incredible, and if you’re willing to grow into your ideal self with me there, I’m down.” He confesses. Joe’s smiling wide, and it actually kind of hurts, but he doesn’t think about it cause he’s swooped in to steal another kiss from George, who eagerly kisses back and snakes his arms around Joe’s shoulders.

“Georgie, I’ve been waiting for you to make a move.” Joe says. George laughs. The situation itself is funny: Joe just got in a fight, they’re in the middle of a dormitory bathroom, and it’s nearly 11:00 by now. 

“Well,” George smirks. “That ‘split lip’ thing was pretty smooth on my part, don’t you think?” George teases. Joe melts.

“Fuck, yeah it was.”

**Author's Note:**

> gahh i hope you enjoyed!!! george luz is just. ugh. my king!! king shit. anyways, lmk what you think because i love love writing and i love love hearing your thoughts!!


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